


The Creators of Our Grim

by bellabitch_lestrange



Series: Black!verse [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Pregnancy, Sadness, Suffering, Tragedy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vietnamese!Blacks, references to mental illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellabitch_lestrange/pseuds/bellabitch_lestrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of the unloving and the unloved, of how Mr. Orion Arcturus and Miss. Walburga Irma came to be the Blacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waterfall

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm back again. So to those who read what I had posted before, this is a revised, re-written version as a result of my new-found enthusiasm for this fic and this time, I promise I'll get further than a couple of chapter. It also exists within my Black!verse too so this is compliant with my other serial fic. It's a sort of prequel if you will. And yes, that means that this is also a serial fic. How exciting. But many thanks must be given to hell0lust. She is not only the very reason this fic might exist for giving me the idea but she's also just really great! Not only does she listen to my never-ending complaining, but she also writes the best Wolfstar fics you have ever read, not to mention her very good Dark!Sirius fic, The Subtleties That Make Mass Murderers Out of Otherwise Decent Human Beings. I recommend you all go have a good long read - and cry.
> 
> So this idea isn't something I've seen much of before so I'm not entirely sure of how it will be received which is a shame, but I might just post this for my own satisfaction. But this is essentially just a love story. Except it's between two of the least-loved and least-loving characters in the fandom. So maybe it's not a love story at all.¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Also I will be switching between POVs because I can't make up my mind, but it should stay in third person and in past tense.
> 
> To give you some context, this is set in 1949 where Walburga is 24, Alphard is 22, and Orion and Cygnus are 20. I plan to make this as canonical as possible but there comes a fair few amount of times that I need to mess around with canon a bit to make this work. But as far as timelines go, I have put a lot of work into making it fit with canon and I think I've been quite successful if I do say so myself.
> 
> As always, it would be immensely helpful if you could take a little time to let me know what you think. I'm really nervous about writing a story in which I have to develop characters so if you have any pointers for me, that would be unendingly helpful. Apologies for the long author's note. It shan't happen again!

_November 11th 1949_

She was a doll. A human doll that stood no taller than 5"3 in her heels. Charcoal silk ran over her body like a waterfall, a beautiful, mesmerising waterfall that hugged her hips and corseted waist. Such a dramatically small waist, especially when compared to the voluptuous curves either side of it. Her dress didn't leave much to the imagination. Her hips and arse were showcased in elegant grey silk and were catching the eye of many men in the room. Silk thighs peaked out from beneath the slit that ran up either leg. Her shoulders, chest and arms were covered only in the grey silk too, a light swirling patterned, embroidered in silver, running up the length of her chest and framing her obvious breasts. A high neck – a sort of mimic of the Vietnamese cổ áo - that just about touched her jaw line was fooling no one; her ample bosom was very obvious. But still the silk persisted in its mission to cover the soft pale skin of her arms, all the way to Walburga's wrists.

Irma Black had most likely been the one to pull the ravenous dark curls into an elegant chignon at the back of her head, leaving delicate tendrils of loose curl to fall from her head and touch her shoulders, dipping their dark fingers into the soft cream of her cheek.

The one time her father would ever allow her to show this much of herself would be the one time he'd allow men of all ages to ogle her. Pollux was auctioning her off to the highest bidder.

Orion watched from the corner of the room as she was whisked away by each man she had had to reject several times before, at the request of her father. The ball was one of many hosted by Black Estate. Gala Functions and Charity Events and The Merlin-Awful Gentlemen's Balls were a necessity, of course, among the social elite and, outwardly, this evening was no different but Orion knew that the last three events that Pollux and Irma Black had hosted were actually attempts to marry their daughter off. But none of them were good enough for her, and she knew it. She was loud and opinionated – demanding qualities in a woman – and she was easily the most driven woman he had ever met, with the most devious smirk and the headiest of laughter.

She was like a toxin. A poison that he knew laced every drink in the clutches of every man in this room, some of the women too. They were drinking her in, letting her electric presence consume them. And she _was_ electric. Her energy was palpable from across the ballroom, her magic almost visible.

Orion continued to watch her, silently sulking from the corner of the ballroom with none other than a potted plant for company. He'd finally shaken the delightful presence of his Slytherin school mates and was now deeply regretting it as his attention was drawn to the sultry smirk of Marcus Mckinnon as the man tried to woo some poor girl. Orion briefly thought about intervening but decided against it, as he could hardly bare Marcus' lonesome moaning as it is. _The man isn't even lonely,_ Orion thought. Marcus was renowned for his conquests, always consensual and fair, of course, but he was a _travelled_ man all the same and Orion was always first to know of his latest shag, be they men or women, though Marcus was decidedly quieter about the men lest the rest of Purblood society got wind of such behaviour.

Orion's focus moved back to Walburga. It was true, none of the men were good enough for her. None of them truly appreciated her like they ought to. He watched her being danced away by a man. A Nott? Or was that the Prince heir? Orion didn't care, he wasn't watching _him_.

He leant back against the wall, sipping the whiskey in his hand. Walburga had finished dancing as the song died away and she walked over to drinks table where he was standing. She bypassed the expensive wines and cocktails, heading straight for the vodka. She tipped a generous amount into a glass and threw it back.

A low growl escaped her throat at the burning trail it left and she braced her hands on the table. She closed her eyes and breathed a long sigh.

"Long night?" He asked.

She looked up at him, noticing him for the first time. She covered her startled expression instantly with an arched eyebrow and a devious smirk. "Hi Orrie. How are you?"

He smiled back in her direction. "I'm quite well, thank you." He pushed himself off of the wall and walked over to her. "You, though, look exhausted. I can't imagine being danced away by a number of men is very fun."

She smiled a real smile and shrugged. "Oh it's all worlds of fun, when you know how to play with them." She gave him a conspiratorial wink, eyes flashing.

He laughed. "Oh I bet."

Her laughter died and she smiled again. "And what exactly have you been doing, hm? Standing here all alone all night." She said, her tired smile still playful. "I'll give you a hint now," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Fern's not all that talkative." He followed her nod to the potted plant next to him.

"That's a ficus." He said.

She pursed her lips. "Named Fern." She huffed. "My point still stands; you look bored out of your mind."

He laughed. "You're hilarious." He said, trying not to smile. "I'm fine actually, just artfully dodging Marcus and the others. My father too actually." He said, lifting his drink to his lips.

"I believe he's with my father, talking about man stuff and puffing out their man chests." She said with a sigh. "As for Mckinnon, I believe he's with Mabel Fawley. They spend an inordinate amount of time together. It's quite disgusting, really."

"Quite." They watched the pair across the room, Mabel stroking Marcus' arm, Orion's expression pitying whilst Walburga looked slightly disgusted.

"Well," she snapped from her reverie and turned to him again, "I best be off to find Daddy. See what he thinks of all of those pretty boys. And he best choose someone soon because I'm twenty-four. I'm running out of…" She paused in thought. "…'birthing years' I think Mother called it." She breathed a laugh and turned to walk towards the men at the other end of the room, leaving him with a flirty wave and an image of sashaying hips.

She leaved her cousin behind, purposefully moving her hips with gusto. She smirked as she walked away, knowing that she was the sole focus of grey eyes.

She reached the group of men, and delicately pushed her way through until she was standing in front of a tall, muscular man. Pollux looked down at her and smiled. "Walburga, you look beautiful tonight."

"Indeed you do."

She turned to her right to see her youngest brother staring down at her, a smile on his face.

"Thank you both." She turned back to Pollux. "Where is Mother?"

He smiled slightly, "Merlin only knows. I should find her, though. I've been asked several times about how light my arm feels without her on it." He walked away from the group of men, taking several of them with him.

Walburga took a drink from a passing waiter and sipped it, taking her place next to Cygnus to observe the room.

"You are looking exquisite 'Burga." He said, taking her in.

She looked back up at him, a smile on her face. She reached up and patted his chest. "Aw, you clean up rather well yourself, Cygnus."

He looked down at where her hand lay on his chest and she removed it instantly, bringing it back to her drink. She stared straight ahead and felt his gaze on her. His eyes were running up and down her body, appreciating the curves that he found.

He inhaled the smell of his drink and turned back to the room, keeping the hunger within him hidden.

She tried to think of any reason to leave, hoping that someone else would ask for a dance and whisk her away from what had quickly become a strained silence between them.

"Well, I think I see Eileen waving me down." She quickly trotted away from him to find the women who hadn't called her over at all.

Instead she walked behind the crowd at the back of the room and slipped out of the double doors. She followed the corridor until she came to the entrance hall. Climbing the staircase until she reached the first floor, she followed her feet until she found the small drawing room.

She opened the door and walked in the direction of the drinks cabinet, weaving her way through the chaise lounges and leather sofas. Not bothering to turn the lights on, she picked a bottle at random and poured a healthy amount into a glass tumbler.

Throwing back yet another glass, she took a breath to steady herself. She heard the creak of the door behind her and sighed at herself for not closing it.

She turned and came eye to eye with Cygnus. It was still dark so she couldn't see his face, but his build was a dead give-away to his identity.

"Cygnus? You alright?" She masked the tremble in her voice with much practise.

"'Course 'Burga. But are you?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," he started to move forward as he spoke, "it must be exhausting to be carried off by men when you know none will have you." He raised his wand hand and, with a flick of his wrist, sent a small flame to every candle in the room.

Walburga was at least thankful for the light. It gave her more of an idea of how close he was, how drunk he was.

"But what do you mean?" She unconsciously stepped backward into the cabinet behind her.

He continued to slowly walk to her. "Well women who blurt ugly opinions out aren't attractive 'Burga."

"I don't-"

"Shhh." He was in front of her now, not two steps from her and there was nowhere else to go. "You're just so loud and demanding. You think you can do things like a man." He paused and reached up to touch her cheek. She flinched. He smiled. "I mean, it's cute in a way. But a woman needs to quiet down once a husband is in the picture. So far, you're not making a very good impression."

"B-but-"

"That's not very quiet." He gave her a look she had seen before. Not often but she had seen it enough to know to be scared. He crowded her, overwhelming her with his height and his touch and his scent. She didn't like this.

He smiled after a moment. "That's better." He took a step forward and reached around her back to grab the bottle of whatever she had poured into her glass. He stepped back again and, with glass in hand, gestured to the sofas behind them. "Have a seat."

"Oh no, I best go back to the..." He hadn't cut her off, not with words at least. But her effort to find solace in company and witnesses had died on her tongue at the menacing look on his face. The way his cold grey eyes turned black with warning of his anger.

She said nothing but walked silently to the sofa and seated herself on it. He smiled at her and turned back to the drinks cabinet. "Perhaps if you settled yourself down, Father wouldn't have to keep throwing balls and selling you to all of his friends' sons."

Walburga didn't know what to think. She sort of just sat, feeling herself shrink with every word he said. She thought she should feel angry, she thought she should be lashing out but she wasn't. That look had made it clear that lashing out wouldn't be okay.

"It's silly really. Embarrassing almost. Men don't want to be around that. They want a wife." He turned and gave her a condescending look. "You are not a wife."

The last remnants of her composed-self fell. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were the saddest he had ever seen. It seemed to satisfy him. He left the cabinet and walked over to her. He pushed a glass of clear liquid into her hand, and took a sip of his. He sat down next to her, into the arm of the sofa and looked at her.

He pointed towards the glass in her hand. She looked down and took a sip at his silent request. She looked back at him. "Why are you telling me this?" She asked.

He gave her a small chuckle. "Because it's the truth. Drink up."

She stared ahead of her at the opposite wall and took another sip, much larger this time. She hissed at the burn it left on her throat and winced at the tangy taste. Whatever the alcohol was, she hadn't had it before.

"It's a shame really, because you'd make such a good wife." He gave her a once over that, even in her increasingly buzzing-with-alcohol mind, she didn't miss. He leant closer to her slightly. She felt intoxicated. Not in the same way as earlier. She wasn't scared or happy or angry. She just felt a never ending need to do exactly as he said. Like it was the only way he'd let her survive.

He reached his hand out to touch the loose curls that had fallen from her hair. He stroked them softly and his hand moved to her cheek. His fingers traced her jaw, drawing soft lines over skin. She held her breath.

"Because you are exquisite, aren't you?"

And he closed the gap between them. He pressed his lips against hers, leaning into her. His mouth moved against hers. It was fast and rough and dominating. She had no say in it. He pushed his tongue past her lips and took in everything about her. She was screaming inside. This shouldn't be happening. This wasn't right.

He took her drink from her hand and threw it onto the floor, without care for the stain that was now seeping into the carpet. He was using his weight to push her back into the sofa. His mouth dominated hers and as she felt her back connecting with the sofa beneath her, she awoke.

She used her hands to push against his shoulders and he broke away. "What?" He asked, a hungry anger in his eyes.

"Stop! Get off. I need to go back." She was spluttering, she knew it.

He just chuckled darkly at her. "Shut up. Show me how good of a wife you can be." And he pushed against her again. His lips roamed hers and this time he didn't stop when she pushed against him. He shifted so that he was on top of her completely.

He pulled away from her and chuckled down at her. Her eyes were wide but they were unfocused. He took her by the back of her thighs and opened her legs, settling himself between them.

"Cygnus, no. Please, Cygnus!"

He just kept chuckling. He laughed down at her as he slipped his hand beneath the slit at her thigh, pulling the silk trousers down her legs, his fingers working towards the lace French knickers that he knew she had on.

"Please Cygnus! Stop!" Her protests were growing quieter, her words were turning to sobs and the insisting pushing against his shoulders was growing weaker as the dizziness that clouded her body - and laced her drink - started to take over.

His dark eyes roamed her body until they stopped at her face. "Be quiet, and be a good woman."

She nodded mutely as he split the seam he was playing with at her thigh. He ripped the wizarding áo dài from her body, leaving deep red marks from where the fabric had dragged her skin with it. She was openly crying as he pulled her legs open and kissed up and down her body.

He was rough and sloppy and it made her cringe and gag. He ripped through the thin corset on her chest and groped at her breasts, rough hands leaving bruises in the shape of fingers. Her hands gripped the sofa beneath her.

He pulled back for a moment and, with a heaving chest, started to pull at the buckle of his belt. He pulled the belt from his trousers and threw it to the ground.

Her cries grew louder and he leant over her again. One hand worked the zipper at his trousers and the other went to cover her mouth. His glare grew infinitely menacing. "Why don't you understand how to be quiet?"

He ground into her and she felt the bulge of his arousal pressing into her naked thigh. He got work to freeing himself again and Walburga closed her eyes, trying to shut everything out.

She felt him rip at the last piece of lace standing between them and then she felt him brushing up against her centre.

He chuckled into her neck and pushed into her, too hard and too fast.


	2. Peculiarity

Orion found Pollux to be a funny man, in both wit and peculiarity. He watched as the man laughed merrily to the men surrounding them. His own father, Arcturus, was obviously sharing a funny story with them - Orion wasn't listening - that was making Irma blush and hide her face in Pollux's shoulder.

He liked seeing this, he liked not-quite-listening to this man's stories and opinions of other people. Pollux was open and encouraging around everyone and yet he always directed attention away from himself, as if he were hiding something. Orion supposed, like everyone, Pollux had secrets.

A smile played at the corners of Orion's mouth as he watched the man look down affectionately at his wife and he thought that there couldn't be _much_ to hide. Pollux was tall and muscular, he was rich and charming, his wife was gracious and his daughter was beautiful. Even both his sons had achieved well at Hogwarts.

He couldn't imagine what the man had to hide. He supposed Pollux would have to give out a few unsavoury beatings to his children. Merlin knew they were a handful.

He continued to listen to the chatter of the adults that he was standing with.

"He's a madman, that Avery." Pollux chuckled as he lifted his scotch to his lips. He looked down at Irma who had patted his arm to get his attention.

"Where's Walburga, darling?"

Pollux furrowed his eyebrows and looked around but was interrupted by Cygnus who was walking up to the group. "I believe she excused herself to freshen up before she continues to mingle." He said with a charming smile.

Orion never really understood Cygnus either. For such an observant young man, Orion always had an ability to read people rather well but Cygnus was an enigma, much like his father. He was unlike his easy-going elder brother, Alphard - whose greatest ambition in life was to win galleons and drink with people who made him laugh. It seemed as though Cygnus wanted more, but what else could a young boy grow up with? Cygnus had an abundance of money, a good father, a doting mother, good grades that he hardly had to work for. He was a cute little boy when he was young and so always the centre of attention. And yet it wasn't enough for whatever reason. Cygnus always wanted more than he had and Orion felt silently smug at the fact that it was _his_ father that was the elder cousin and so he was the heir to the throne of Black - _not_ Cygnus.

Now though, his parents nodded and continued their conversation. Orion had stopped listening though. Something about Cygnus' smile wasn't right. It disgusted him, and left his stomach heavy with the feeling of an ominous weight, a dark foreboding.

Cygnus was lying. He didn't know why, but he was sure that something had happened. He looked around at the people that surrounded him and muttered an 'excuse me' before wandering away, towards the large double doors.

He found his way to the entrance hall and climbed the staircase. He checked all of the guest bedrooms and bathrooms that the first floor held until he walked to the end of the hall. He opened the door to a small drawing room.

There were no candles lit but he could hear quiet sobbing in the darkness. He pushed the door open further and at the sound of the creaking hinges, the sobbing stopped.

He stepped into the room. "Wallie? You in here?" He called out to the room.

The crying started back up again, louder this time. He used his wand to send a flame to some of the candles by the window to illuminate the room.

And he saw her. Walburga was lying on the sofa, naked, curled into herself and weeping. She looked bruised and beaten, her hair had been pulled out of its intricate bun and her heavy eye make up covered half her cheeks. She looked up at him, shame and despair in her eyes.

He was with her in no more than two strides, kneeling by the sofa. "Wallie? What happened? Who did this to you?" His voice was panicked and already starting to break.

She only shook her head and sobbed harder. He reached his hand out toward her face and his fingers shook as they traced just above where a black welt was already forming around her eye.

"Shh. It's alright. I've got you." He was doing his best to reassure her, trying desperately to keep the white hot panic out of his voice.

He went to put his arms under her to lift her but when his hand brushed the back of her thigh she flinched violently and screamed. He retracted his hands immediately. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

He didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave her like this. "Look, Wallie. I'm sorry but I need to lift you. Is that alright?" He spoke slowly, his voice shaking with fear.

She turned her head to look at him and gave him a mute nod. He shook his suit jacket from his arms and lay it over her to cover her slightly. He reached his hand under her thighs and shoulders and stood, lifting her like a bride and never before had he realised how small she really was.

She was a tiny woman, a girl really and she felt infinitely fragile in his arms.

He carried her out of the room and started toward her bedroom on the second floor. He reached the door and pushed it open, quickly walking over to the bed to place her on it carefully. He moved around her softly, trying not to scare her with sharp movements.

"Wallie, please. Tell me who did this to you." He was pleading, begging.

She shook her head, "Cy- Cygnus."

He closed his eyes in anger and prayed to some deity or Sweet Circe above to give him the patience to not lash out and scare her. Her crying had quieted somewhat, just a soft hiccough-y breath remained.

He sat down next to her. "What is it, Wallie? What do you need?"

She didn't look at him instead she turned to him and clutched at his waistcoat. "H- hurts."

He looked down at her and started to see the blackening marks that were littering her hips and thighs. He didn't know how to help her. He just didn't know what to do, so he sat with her. He moved closer to her and pulled her small, broken frame to him.

They sat in silence for several moments before she spoke again.

"I'm sorry."

He looked down at her, startled. "What ever could you be sorry for?"

She sniffed again and fresh tears started to roll down her cheeks, "because I'm dirty and broken," he just stared at her in stunned silence, appalled at her words, "and Daddy says men don't want impure brides. I'm sorry I'm not a good woman." Her voice broke on the last word and she started crying again.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" He asked, loudly. She shrunk in his lap and he realised his tone sounded rather admonishing so he made an attempt to soften his voice. "Merlin, I hope you don't believe any of that," she looked up at him in confusion, "don't you realise how brilliant you are?"

She stayed silent so he continued. "We've known each other since we were babies, Wallie, and I've never once thought you were anything less than wonderful. I remember being four years old and thinking you were some brilliant being from another planet." He chuckled slightly. "I had a crush on you when I was seven."

She let out a breath that might have been laughter. "Trust me, I knew." He smiled at her. He could feel her muscles starting to relax against him and she settled her head into his lap. "You always pulled my hand and made me follow you around."

He laughed. "I remember taking your wand off of you."

"And I remember getting in trouble with Daddy for smacking you in the face to get it back." Her voice was starting to sound stronger than it had.

He sighed. "You are brilliant, definitely. And you are strong and I love hearing you laugh." He stroked her hair as he mused aloud to himself. "Your laugh is brilliant. It's like someone is melting copper, it's smoky and silvery and..." he chuckled to himself bashfully. "I don't know."

He couldn't see the smile that started to grace her face.

"And I love hearing you talk. It's like everything you say, you really believe. And you can use words like no one else. You can wrap your thoughts in words that sound like _art_." He was just saying everything that came into his head. "You're so brilliant and sure of yourself. I don't think you're broken. I think you're very whole."

She gave a shaky sigh and shook her head. "I feel so dirty. What will I do with myself?" She said into his lap.

He hesitated, not sure if he should say what he was about to say. "I feel quite broken most of the time." He breathed a heavy sigh. "I just feel like I've felt sad for so long that I don't know how to feel anything else. I don't want to get used to being tired but I can't find a way out of it. I feel empty and tired and… broken."

She looked up at him from his lap and he continued, "I don't know what I'm saying. I guess it's just that even if you are broken, you're not the only one. I mean we're Blacks. It's in our very blood to be perfectly broken." He said, giving a wry smile.

She sat up slightly, the suit jacket falling from her shoulder. She looked at him with an intense gaze and reached her hand up to hold his jaw. "Why are you being nice to me?"

He was mesmerised, nothing this beautiful had ever been this close to him. And nothing this beautiful had never looked so ugly. Her eyes were red and puffy, mascara stained her cheeks and the blueish black mark had spread to her brow bone. It made him want to throw things, but that gaze. It kept him completely still.

She chuckled darkly, no humour in her voice. "I'm damaged goods. No man wants a wife who doesn't know when to shut up. No man wants a wife who's been had by another man."

He swallowed over a thick lump of emotion. She sounded so empty. His voice cracked as he said it.

"I do."

She stared at him for no longer than a second before she pulled his lips to hers. She was all passion and fire and all of his emotions seemed to crash in waves in front of his closed eyes. He lost himself in the feel of her lips, in her taste, her smell. _Her._ Her kiss curled like smoke between their lips and fire danced in his lungs.

He brought his hands up to the small of her back. She pushed herself into him further before pulling back for breath.

They hovered, mere centimetres from each other, their eyes lidded heavily and their chests heaving. She smiled that beautiful real smile and laughed giddily. She pulled back further, suddenly looking bashful and ashamed. "Can I just..."

"Of course, go to sleep."

She settled her head back on his lap and pulled the suit jacket over her a bit more. "Sorry about your shirt." She said softly.

He looked down at his shirt sleeve and his eyes widened at the dark blood stain he had from carrying her. He swallowed, bent his head low and kissed her hair. Then he sat back against the headboard and waited for morning.


	3. Knocking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's actually been a hundred years since I last updated and I'm ever so sorry, but my exams were about and I thought that I should probably make some sort of effort. But now I am back, with a 10 week holiday ahead in which I will be writing all the fanfic ever. So please enjoy the update and consider that pesky hiatus lifted.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._ The knocking on a door shook Orion from his sleep. He breathed a sigh and blinked a few times to wake him up properly.

"'Burga, you in there? You better be up soon. Father didn't see you last night." Alphard's voice sounded from the other side of the bedroom door followed by his footfalls as he walked away.

Orion looked around at the room. Dark red cushion, plush carpet, the smell of rose and wine. He was in Walburga's room. And then he remembered - he remembered _everything_.

He looked down at the girl in his arms. Walburga's cheek was pressed against his lap, making her lips look swollen and childlike. She looked like a baby when she slept but he noticed a trail of drool was working its way into a puddle on his leg and he decided it best to wake her.

"Wallie," he shook her shoulder lightly. "C'mon, Wallie. Time to wake up."

She shifted slightly and her eyes started to blink slowly. "Mhmphm."

He couldn't help but smile. He lifted her shoulders and slipped out from underneath her, leaving her to wake up on her own.

He walked straight to the vanity to check his appearance in the mirror and he realised straight away that that was a bad idea. He looked awful. The hair that usually fell to the nape of his neck in loose curl resembled the back end of a duck. His jaw was lined with dirty, black stubble and his clothes were creased and wrinkled, not to mention, of course, the brownish blood stain on his left arm.

"I don't feel good."

His head whipped around at the voice that broke him from his reverie. Walburga was sat up in the bed, clutching the suit jacket around her naked body. Whatever he had thought about his appearance, she was ten times worse.

"You're awake." He said as he walked over to her and sat down on the bed. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head and he thought she looked quite green. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything, vomit erupted from her mouth all over him.

"Sorry." Her broken voice said, still spitting bits of bile and food out.

He looked down at his now vomit covered lap. "N-no. Don't apologise. I uhh... wasn't planning on wearing this much longer anyway." He smiled at her, trying to reassure her. "Is that all of it?"

She shook her again, slowly. "I don't feel very good at all."

"Okay, well let's get you to the bathroom." He helped her to stand and half carried her to the en-suite.

He sat her down on the floor in front of the toilet, bringing the suit jacket around her shoulders from where it had slipped off. Then he stepped back, not entirely sure of what to do next. He seated himself on the edge of the claw-footed bathtub and looked around the room, trying to find something to distract himself.

She lay on the floor, head on hands that were clutching the edge of the toilet bowl and she watched him. They sat like that in an increasingly awkward silence for several minutes until she spoke.

"You look terrible, y'know." She was pressing her cheek against her hands and it was slurring her words. "You should get dressed for break-" she was cut off by another great heave, purging more of her stomach contents into the toilet.

Orion went to her, pulling the hair out of her face and rubbing her back. He cringed at how painful it sounded. She stopped retching and raised her head. "Breakfast. I meant to say breakfast."

He let out a breath of laughter and she joined him with a wry chuckle. "Are you alright?" He asked after the laughter died away. She nodded and he let her hair down again, turning to grab some loo roll.

"The guest bedroom has some spare clothes that might fit you." She said after she had wiped her mouth. "I think I'll have a shower."

"Are you sure?" He asked as he helped her to her feet.

She clutched at his sleeve to steady herself and nodded. "Mhm."

He stepped away from her and turned towards the bedroom. He really didn't want to leave her, not like this. She was naked and bruised all over and he felt unsettled just turning away from her for a second.

"Orrie."

He turned to the sound of her voice. She was standing next to the bath, holding his jacket closed around her. Her face was sheepish and she was playing with one of the buttons on the jacket, not looking him in the face. "Could you... uh- could you help me into the bath?" She looked up at him when she finished speaking, eyes shy and expression cautious.

He'd never seen her like this, so shy and unsure, and he didn't really know what to do. He nodded. "'Course." He moved towards her.

She smiled at him nervously. "Thanks," she mumbled. He held her forearm and took her weight as she stepped over the bath.

He wished he hadn't looked. He really wished he hadn't but he had. He looked to make sure she wasn't going to slip on the edge of the bath and he saw a trail of dry blood on the inside of her thigh.

"Wallie." He breathed in horror. She paused, one foot in the bath and one on the floor, looking up at him. She followed his gaze.

She looked back at him. "It's fine. I'm fine." He wasn't convinced at all and neither was she from the look on her face.

He nodded, not wanting to say anything to offend or scare her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She replied all too quickly.

He nodded again and helped her the rest of the way into the bath. "Do you need anything else? At all?" He was so nervous around her, stuttering on every word.

She smiled. "No. That should be fine." She said. He nodded and left the room.

* * *

She watched him walk out of the room, closing the door behind him. She waited for the _click_ and then breathed out in relief. She dropped the jacket onto the floor and immediately looked down at her thighs. She touched the bruises there and her fingers brushed against the dry blood.

With Orion now gone, she allowed a new wave of tears to fall from her eyes.

She closed her eyes and breathed in, slowly. She reached up to the shower head and turned it on, flinching when the cold water hit her skin but she didn't move out of the way of the jet. She didn't know why, but she felt like punishing herself. For allowing herself to be used like that? For losing her dignity? For allowing Orion to see just how broken she was? _Yes. To all of them._

The water heated slowly and she breathed in the heat, allowing the steam to fill her lungs. It was almost painful but not really.

She grabbed a bottle of lotion and a loofah and started scrubbing the sweat and grime from her body, careful of the bruises on her hips and breasts. She watched as the white suds swirled on her skin before dissipating under the harsh stream of water.

She moved the loofah toward her thighs and she watched as the water that swirled down the drain turned pink, a new steady stream of blood seemed to be making its way down the inside of her leg with the gravity of standing. Her hips hurt, her breasts hurt, her neck felt tight but it was between her thighs that hurt the most.

She washed the alcoholic smell out of her hair and reached up to turn the water off. Breathing a heavy sigh, she clutched the side of the bath and slowly edged each leg over, wincing at the movement.

She went to the full length mirror in the corner and looked at her reflection for several minutes, watching the curls making their way back up into her hair after being flattened by the water, following each drop as it dripped from her fingers onto the tiled floor. Her skin was red and flushed from the searing water and she could see read scratches from where she had scrubbed furiously at the dirt on her body. Her dirt. Her porcelain skin was stained with a spattering of coloured bruises. Bluish-black marks lay across her breasts and hips in the shape of hands. A scatter-graph; mapping where he had wanted her most.

Her gaze floated up to her face. Glamour Charms would have to be used. Dark rings of her fatigue wound around her eyes and the last remnants of mascara that had held onto her lashes under the water made her look gaunter still. She looked like a corpse. And then, of course, was the black bruise that covered her right eye. It lined the bone beneath her eye and moved around her face in a sickening purple colour, the middle a garish yellow that made her gag.

She rushed to the toilet once more and heaved yet more bile from her stomach, wincing at the burning in her throat and nostrils that the acid left. It clung to her breath and the air around her and the smell made her sway slightly. Her hand reached out lazily, felling around for some loo roll and wiping her mouth and nose with it. She dropped it into the toilet and flushed.

She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body, heading for the bedroom to dress. Orion wasn't there and she assumed he'd gone to shower in the guest bedroom. She wondered about him. They hadn't said anything about the night before; about what had happened. About what he'd seen. About the kiss. Had she made that up in her head?

Whatever she'd drank the night before was strong enough to have her hallucinating, so maybe she had made the whole thing up. She didn't want to think, not right now. Her head hurt enough already and she just wanted to go back to sleep.

She turned to her dresser and started pulling out a corset.

* * *

She opened the doors to the dining room where most of the family was having breakfast. Alphard, Melania, and Orion looked up at her, smiled and turned back to their food. Cygnus looked up, smiled and didn't tear his gaze from her.

His smile was one of smug success and she felt herself frozen. She was shrinking and growing and the world was closing in on her. Her breath was short. She couldn't look away from those filthy eyes. She was going to die, he was going to kill her.

_Ahem._

She looked up to Orion who was apparently standing now, holding a chair out for her. And the walls weren't closing in. She was okay, sort of. She nodded minutely and sat down silently.

Alphard cleared his throat. "So we didn't see much of you last night, 'Burga. Where'd you disappear to?" He asked lightly.

She froze, not knowing at all what to say. Orion saw her panic and seemed to step in. "Must have been rather tired from all that dancing, I expect?"

She looked up at everyone, realising all of their gazes were on her and nodded mutely. It seemed to satisfy them and they went back to enjoying their breakfast.

The door opened again and Pollux walked in. He walked to the head of the table and sat down, taking a newspaper from the house elf at his chair and opening it silently.

After a few minutes of clinking silverware, he dropped the Prophet to the table. "Rather good night, don't you think?"

"It was wonderful. I'm sure Lucretia would have stayed longer had Ignatius not had other engagements, but she did enjoy it." Said Melania with a smile.

He nodded. "Yes of course. I haven't seen much of her since they married but she does seem quite happy."

"Oh she is," Melania said, "and Arcturus is quite taken with Ignatius so Lucretia and I see each other quite often. I'll have to bring her over properly at some point." They continued talking whilst everyone else was silent. Walburga couldn't hear them. Cygnus was staring into the top of her head as she ate. She stared into her lap with wide eyes. She could feel his gaze, feel it burning through her skull, feel her chest constricting further with every breath.

She stood, her chair screeching along the floor behind her and directing all eyes to her. She looked at all of them, her chest heaving with panic and she ran from the room.

Cygnus smiled to himself, "Think I'll go see if she's alright." He said, excusing himself from the room.

Orion's eyes widened immediately and his jaw set. He scrambled up from the table and ran to follow him.


	4. Stormed

Orion stormed from the room to find the entrance hall empty.  _How had they gotten away so fast?_ But then he heard voices.

"Please! No! Don't come any closer! Please!" Walburga seemed to be switching between pleading cries and frantic shouting. He broke out into a run, following the corridor that led behind the staircase.

Cygnus, his back to Orion, was backing Walburga into a dead end and she was almost in tears. Orion's eyes stormed black. "You get the  _fuck_  away from her, right now!" He struggled to keep his voice quiet and calm so that he didn't scare Walburga.

Cygnus' head whipped around to see Orion. He gave a charming grin. "Orrie. Cousin. Good to see you! Hope you found a pretty bird to keep you company last night."

"Get away from her." He said lowly.

"Oh don't mind 'Burga. Think she had a bit much too drink last night." He said lightly and turned back to Walburga. " _Right?_ "

Orion stepped closer still and slowly reached his arm out toward Walburga. "It's alright, Wallie. Would you like to come with me?" He asked, choosing his words carefully.

She nodded hurriedly but didn't move any closer. Cygnus was still in between them. "Look, Orrie. Why don't you go finish your breakfast? I'll take care of my sister." He said, shooting Orion another charming smile.

Orion saw red. He stormed up to Cygnus, swung his fist back and punched Cygnus square in the jaw _._ Walburga screamed and Cygnus stumbled back, his hand coming up to touch his jaw.

He laughed, slowly without a trace of humour. "That was a bad idea, Orrie." And Cygnus launched himself at Orion. They tumbled to the ground, Cygnus straddling Orion, getting in punch after punch until Orion hit him in the side of the head. There was no thought for wands, no thought of the power they could have used. There was no thought at all. Just complete, unadulterated rage, an animalistic frenzy of fist and nail.

Walburga was screaming for help and Orion could hear distant footsteps. Then he felt a hand on the back of his collar.

Arcturus dragged Orion to his feet and he saw Pollux bodily restraining Cygnus. The elder man looked furious. "Now what in  _Merlin's name_  is going on?!"

Cygnus gave humourless breath of laughter. "A minor disagreement." He said quietly, tonguing the bloody split in his lip.

Pollux threw Cygnus against the wall. "A minor disagreement? STUPID CHILD. You do NOT behave like such filth, like  _beggars._ And you  _never_ behave like that in front of a woman! Insolent child! Get out of my sight!" Pollux's anger seethed in his voice and Orion saw a small fear in Cygnus' eye. The young man scrambled to his feet and walked quickly from the corridor.

Arcturus released Orion. "Do you want to tell us what happened?" Arcturus' voice was quieter than Pollux's but Orion could tell he was just as livid. He looked around, Alphard was there, looking incredibly confused and Irma and Melania were standing slightly further back, hands on various parts of their faces in dismay.

"It wasn't him, Daddy."

Everyone looked over to the girl that was still pinning herself to the wall. "Cygnus insulted me, Orion was just protecting my honour."

Irma stepped forward, laying one hand on Pollux's arm and extended the other to Walburga. She took her mother's hand and stepped through to where Melania was standing.

Pollux looked to Orion, an eyebrow raised. "And this is true, is it?"

Orion nodded.

Pollux took a heavy sigh. "If you'll excuse me, I need to speak to my son." They watched him leave in the direction that Cygnus went. Irma didn't look him in the eye as he went and Orion knew that Cygnus was in for a beating. _Good. Let the man forget himself, let the man beat him half to death._

Acturus looked back to Orion. "Come with me," and he had no choice but to follow.

* * *

They were sat in Arcturus' study back at Grimmauld Place. After making sure Walburga was calm enough, Melania thought it best to head home as soon as possible. Arcturus hadn't said a word but had corralled Orion into his study. He'd poured himself a tumbler of Firewhiskey from the liquor cabinet and turned to sit in the high backed armchair. Orion was sat on the sofa, playing with the skin around his nails. They'd sat in silence for almost ten minutes.

Orion finally looked up and immediately regretted it. Arcturus was far from the composure he had at Black Estate. He was staring at Orion with a black rage. His face was lined and his eyes were hard. He was tapping the arm of the chair menacingly. Twenty years old Orion was now, and he felt no older than five, sitting before his father.

"Father, I-"

"I can't believe it." Arcturus interrupted, shaking his head. "What, in the name of Salazar, were you thinking?" He stood and started pacing. "You know, I've always been proud. It is Pollux's children that are the nuisances. Mine? Never. I'd never have thought it! You  _idiot_  child!"

Orion very rarely heard Arcturus say he was proud of him, but he didn't think now was the time to be swelling with pride. "It wasn't me-"

"And what's worse? You put Walburga in danger!" His voice rose with a dangerous anger with every word he said. "Do you have no respect? No  _care_  for that poor woman?"

"Hey!" Orion stood with a new anger. "I'm the only who seems to care at all about he-"

Arcturus' hand connected with his face and Orion stumbled back into the sofa. "You  _dare_  speak to me like that!" He shouted.

Orion didn't look at him. Some men were to be challenged but, unlike Cygnus, he knew not to anger his father any further.

"Arcturus?" They both looked to Melania's nervous face in the doorway. She was smiling, perhaps to diffuse Arcturus' ire, but her brown eyes were cautious. She approached him carefully, and rested a hand on his arm, her dark skin dainty on his white sleeve. "Calm down, darling."

"I am calm." He ground out. He wasn't calm at all. His eyes were fixed on Orion still.

She reached up to his jaw, pulling his face down to look at her. "Calm, darling. How about I fix you a drink, hmm?"

His whole being seemed to wane as he looked at her and nodded. She left him and wandered over to the liquor cabinet to refill his glass.

Arcturus looked back to where Orion was sitting on the couch and he sighed. "Do you want to tell me what actually happened?" He asked, sitting back down across from him.

"Walburga said; Cygnus insu-"

He stopped when Arcturus raised his hand. "I said what _actually_ happened." The elder man said pointedly.

Orion paused. He had no idea whether or not this was a good idea. Arcturus had never disappointed Orion. He was reserved and strict of course, and he was never afraid to beat Orion's behaviour back into perfection, but Orion trusted his father.

"I- I don't think it is… entirely appropriate with Mother in the room." He didn't know what he was doing. He really didn't want to tell them. He was buying himself time to think.

Melania turned from the liquor cabinet, a tumbler of whiskey and a glass of wine in hand and arched an eyebrow at her son. "I can assure you, darling, I've heard a fair few of inappropriate conversation in my time." She giggled at herself. "Your father once-"

"Ahem." She looked down at Arcturus who had pointedly cleared his throat and she suddenly seemed to remember herself. "Apologies," she said quietly and sat on the arm of Arcturus' chair.

Orion looked pleadingly at Arcturus. The man sighed and turned to the woman at his side. "If you could excuse us, Mel."

She narrowed her eyes at the both of them, obviously annoyed. She gave the whiskey to her husband, kissed him on the cheek and stood, walking from the room.

Arcturus watched her go and turned back to Orion upon hearing the door click shut. His eyes were concerned and he had a dark look on his face. "What happened, Orion?"

"He hurt her… Cygnus, he… last night, at the party, he got Walburga alone and he gave her… some drink, I don't know and he..." He trailed off, not able to finish.

"What did he do, Orion?" Arcturus' voice was raised, his face hard.

"He hurt her. He… he raped her." Orion said and finally looked up to see his father's face. He was anxious, he didn't have the slightest idea of how he might react. He was simultaneously prepared to get shouted down because "that's what a woman was for" and, at the same time, he was ready to storm Black Estate at his father's side, to save the poor girl. Whatever he thought, Arcturus' reaction was significantly underwhelming.

The man sighed. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. He stood from the armchair and once again made his way to the liquor cabinet. He came back and handed a whiskey to Orion. "Here. You'll need something strong." He said as he stood in front of where Orion sat.

Orion sipped at his drink and waited for something. He didn't know what exactly.

Arcturus sighed again heavily. "However Cygnus may have acted," he spoke quietly, "there is no justification for your actions. You behaved like an animal. I cannot stress how disgusting it is to see you, of noble Black stock, throw yourself around like the common. You were born to better, so you should make damn well sure you behave accordingly in the future." He finished and went to his desk, away from his son.

Orion took this as a dismissal and quietly got up off the couch, walking over to the door.

"And, Orion?"

He turned back to see his Father's blank expression staring back at him, and he saw the sincerity in the man's eyes. "I hope you beat the fucking shit out of him."


	5. Sitting

_**A/N:**  Lmao so I am not Vietnamese or like cultured at all. I am pale and Irish and white and need help so if there are any Vietnamese speakers or like actual Vietnamese people please like help me I literally just used google translate god help me._

* * *

Orion had been at work for too long. Sitting behind a desk, sorting through reports from the Hunter's Division in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He'd been reading through one particular report for the better part of two hours now and he'd gotten no further than the second paragraph.

He didn't want to be here, at this Merlin forsaken job, reading reports that he had no real interest in. It's not like he needed the job, he could just stand up and blast his table off the floor right now and he'd be fine. He didn't need any job; he was rich. Orion sighed. Now he was just sulking. No he didn't need this job but his father wanted him to work to a prestigious position within the Ministry. The Catcher's Division wasn't even that boring and at the tender age of twenty, he was already Acting Assistant Head (thanks to the power that came with a name like Black) so he knew he was just being petty.

Truth was, he couldn't stop thinking of her. Walburga, all alone, all hurt. He'd seen Cygnus around the Ministry enough to at least feel comfortable that she wasn't spending much time in his company. But he couldn't stop thinking about her, about how she had woken up so  _normal_. How she just seemed so herself, as if nothing was wrong. No one should be acting normally after something like that.

But then, he thought, she wasn't acting normal. She didn't even last one meal in the same room as Cygnus. She had been fine and then she just wasn't. He'd never seen her like that before and it frightened him deeply.

And there'd been that kiss. That infuriatingly mesmerising kiss. Sure, he'd kissed girls. In fact, he'd gone quite a bit further than mere kisses but never had it been like that. He was convinced that nothing had ever felt that good. They hadn't mentioned it, they'd acted as if it hadn't happened. Maybe she didn't remember it. She was heavily drugged at the time. It probably wasn't even her.

"Oi, Black, where you been all day?"

Orion was broken out of his thoughts and looked up to find Marcus McKinnon walking to his desk at the back of the large communal office. Marcus was tanned man with sandy blonde hair, a loud laugh and an insatiable Cockney accent.

"We missed your sweet arse at lunch, love." And he often talked to Orion as if they were lovers.

Orion smiled, and sat back in his chair. "I have no doubt you did, it's quite a nice arse." He said with his charming Black grin.

"You bet, the lads are getting drinks later. Sphinxtail Inn. I hope you'll be joining us?" Marcus said with a wink. "Per'aps catch yourself a pretty bird to have for the night?"

"Um… I have quite a bit of work to get done, Marc. Some other time?" He explained.

"You've been working all day, Black. We all have. Come out, we'll play a few hands, win a few galleons." He said, seating himself on the edge of the desk and lying back across it dramatically, sending a few papers and folders off the desk and onto the floor. "You know how lonely I get you without you." He added with a mock pout.

Orion narrowed his eyes at him. "You're lying on top of my reports." Marcus just continued to pout. "Fine. I'll go. But later. I, unlike your lazy arse, have work to do."

Marcus got up with a satisfied smile. "Ah good boy, Black!" He said, ruffling up Orion's hair. He started to walk away but turned at the last second. "Oh hey, what happened to you at that ball your Uncle had? You disappeared half way through the night and I've barely seen you since."

He knew. Good gods above, he knew.  _No he didn't. Don't be an idiot._  "Nothing of merit." Orion smiled happily.

"Hope you snagged yourself something pretty?" Marcus asked, smiling. "I know I did." He gave a lecherous grin.

"Delightful." Orion said, trying his hardest not to let on that he had not 'snagged' anything.

* * *

Orion threw back another shot of tequila and slammed the glass back to the bar. A chorus of grunts and breaths sounded as the group of men felt the satisfying burn of the alcohol together.

"I never do tire of good booze." Said Evander from Orion's left and he sat back as the others cheered their agreement.

Orion leant back against the bar of the Sphinxtail Inn where Marcus had dragged him for a night with a group of other men from the ministry. All of them had belonged to a large group of friends from Slytherin and Orion felt a sort of peace knowing he could slip back into his practised quietness around his friends.

"She's always been a pretty thing that Rosier girl." Travers said loudly. "I wouldn't mind having her for a wife," the man said, his eyes slightly sweet and wistful.

Dariel Rosier narrowed his eyes in Travers' direction. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Well you don't have to worry about marrying. You've got yourself a wife already." Marcus announced, grimacing slightly at the stresses of wedding.

Orion watched as a small smile started tug at the corners of Rosier's mouth when his wife was mentioned. "Yes, I do." He gave into the smile and wore it smugly to the other men.

Evander shook his head incredulously. "I still can't believe you are married." He said with a thick French accent. "Next you'll be having children."

"Says you, how old's your boy? One? Besides," a coy smile played at Rosier's mouth, "we've actually been thinking about trying for an heir."

Cheers erupted around the bar and Rosier received a lot congratulatory pats on the back. Orion raised another shot glass into the air. "A toast?" He suggested.

The group raised their glasses and chorused a loud "Rosier!" to which Travers followed with "may he and his sperm have luck!"

Evander cast his gaze onto Orion, "And what about you, Black? Any special girl you have your eye on?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

He smiled, "No, afraid not, Lestrange." He didn't. He didn't have his eye on anyone. But his mind had not been off Walburga for a week. Her well-being plagued him constantly, his mind tirelessly thinking of different situations she could have gotten herself into. Once again, his thoughts drifted to that mind-blowing kiss. To those lips that seemed to dominate and submit to him all at once.

A clearing throat brought him out of his reverie. "Black?" His friend laughed at Orion's absent-mindedness. "You got yourself a friend, sweet-pea." He looked up to Marcus beside him, who was pointing in the direction of the barman.

The barman was carrying a small black owl towards him and he immediately recognised it as Walburga's owl, Reaper.

He met the man and took the owl off him over the bar. "Black, right? That thing was damn near close to breaking my window." The barman said, obviously annoyed.

Orion paid the man no notice and with a brief "thanks" untied the letter, walking back to the group. He propped the bird onto his shoulder and pulled the parchment free of the envelope. The writing was rushed and scribbled, and the parchment was yellowed in places with tear stains.

_Orrie-_

_I don't know what's happening to me. I feel awful. I didn't know who to go to. I'm sorry. You don't have to come. I'm sorry._

It wasn't signed and the letter size was sporadic. She was panicking, he didn't know why, but she was. He read through the letter three times, not knowing what to do.

"Are you okay, Black?"

He looked up to all the eyes staring at him, confusedly. Marcus lent over his shoulder, "What you got there, lovely?" He said, trying to read the parchment in his hand. Orion clutched it to his chest, staring around at the men.

"Nothing, I… I need to go, I have… there's someone I need to see." He grabbed his cloak from the bar, Reaper giving an indignant hoot at the sudden move, and sped from the bar, letter in hand.

"What on Earth do you s'pose that's about?" Said Marcus, looking around at all the bewildered faces.

* * *

He apparated straight to Black Estate and all but ran up the winding drive to the Manor. He wrapped the ornate knocker repeatedly until a house elf answered with an ugly face peering up at him. He didn't wait for an invitation and barged past the elf into the entrance hall. He stopped suddenly, realising that he was in a person's house without them knowing. He also realised that Walburga hadn't actually said that she was here.

He whirled around to face the elf. "Where is she?" He said, attempting to sound menacing but it came out in a sort concerned panic. "Walburga, where is she?"

"Tippy thinks young Mistress is in her chambers, Master." It said, cowering. He left without another word, running up the staircase.

His mind raced with what he might find upon entering her room. Images of her after Cygnus had gotten to her.  _No. Cygnus was out._  Orion knew that. He found himself at the first floor, turning left and carrying on down until he found another much smaller staircase. He reached her door on the second floor before throwing it open.

She wasn't there, the room was empty. And then he heard retching noises coming from the bathroom. He moved through the room and found the en-suite door closed.

He knocked on the door, gently. "Wallie, you in there?" He asked.

"Orrie?" Her voice croaked from behind the door.

"Can I come in?" He asked, tentatively.

"Please." She said, every word seeming to cause her pain.

He pushed the door open and found her small frame curled around the toilet bowl. She had obviously gotten the áo dài she was wearing off hastily as the top half hung around her hips and her corset underneath had been loosened.

He hurried over to her, crouching next to the toilet. "What happened? Are you okay?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, I don't know what's wrong. I was…" she took a breath, "at dinner with mother and..." another breath, "father and my stomach-" She heaved a dry sob. "It hurts so bad, Orrie." She wept, her English becoming primitive in her state.

"Okay, it's alright." He shushed her, rubbing a hand over her back. He cringed as she heaved again, emptying copious amounts of bile into the toilet. He extended his other hand to her forehead and felt a burning heat there. "You're burning up."

She spat the stomach acid from her mouth, "It's that stuff that Cygnus gave me. It..." breath, "it has to be. Stomach hasn't..." breath, "stopped hurting since." Talking for more than four words at a time seemed to be taking an enormous amount of effort.

He took some loo roll from the wall and wiped her mouth with it. He threw it in the toilet, flushed and brought his hand up to her face. "You'll be alright, we'll see a healer-"

"No! We can't! No one can know..." breath, "I can't. People will ask questions. They'll know I'm-" Her voice faltered here, "spoiled." She looked at him with exhausted eyes and a pleading forehead. "It would ruin Father's name." She said, laboriously.

"Well, funnily enough, there are things that are more important than-"

" _Xin vui lòng._ " She said no more, pleading with him in their mother tongue, and giving him a look that made him want to curl her into a ball and stroke her until she smiled.

He nodded. "Alright, but, your Mother at least. I'll get her, she'll know what to do, won't she?" He asked her hurriedly, continuing in Vietnamese.

She smiled in relief, "okay." She brought her hand up to his cheek, mirroring him. She moved her thumb over his jaw, brushing his stubble and staring right into his eyes.

Her fingers put him in a trance, "Alright," he said slowly, "I'll go and get your mother then." She smiled and nodded.

He stood and walked from the room.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, it is revised and I'm excited about being able to actually sort out a real story line. I have a lot written but I'd severely appreciate a response from you guys because this is a serial fic and I have no idea what I'm doing with it. Thanks.


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